Primary Source Material (by Stephan Anstey)

This is the truth: Suppose the Night were a pumpkin pie hurriedly eaten – bit by bit – by little ants that spit it out into tiny piles of goo. The days, supposedly, were you on a yellow bulldozer, pushing

into giant piles all the ants and all the goo until

they were transformed so that you couldn’t hardly tell which nights were which and what ant was what – even the illusion of pie disappears like some sort of enormous needle in a galaxy devoid of anything resembling knowledge of the spirit.

Imagine, for a moment that the bodies of the ants dissolve slowly in their own juices and the smell of pumpkin.

Hope means nothing to them. The night is lost in the boundless piles you’ve made for some unknown reason. You can’t separate the parts from the whole, or even discern each from the other anymore. Dreams are neither pie nor bulldozer nor ant regurgitated, gurgitated, irritated, irradiated or interred. You have determined the shape of all you see, and it means nothing.

* * *Stephan Anstey is a poet and an artist. As an artist, he is focused on spiritual exploration and the celebration of the individual in mankind’s endless war against an increasingly invasive society. Anstey’s art is primarily a combination of poetry and digital collage, some of which is on display at local galleries. He lives an idyllic life in the historic mill city of Lowell, Massachusetts with his beautiful and beloved bride Ellen and their talented and wonderful children, Emily, a great saxophonist and a classics major at Boston University, and Cameron, an excellent trombonist, and physics and astronomy major also at Boston University.